The Palm Reader's Prophecy
Maya's palms were sweating — like, actually dripping — as she stood outside the community center where the summer kickback was going down. Luna had been begging her to come all week, swearing this was the night Maya would finally talk to Darius, the cute pitcher from the travel baseball team who'd been flirting with her in bio class.
"You got this," Luna said, grabbing Maya's hand. "Look at your palm. See this line? It means you're about to be brave."
Maya rolled her eyes. "You've been doing fake palm readings since seventh grade, Luna."
"Fake until it manifests, bestie."
Inside, the bass was already bumping. Maya spotted Darius immediately — tall, wearing that fitted jersey that made his arms look insane, surrounded by his baseball bros doing that thing where they all laughed at nothing. Her stomach did that thing where it felt like she'd swallowed a butterfly exhibit.
Then she saw it: Darius's golden retriever, Cooper, somehow inside the party, weaving through legs with a party hat strapped to his head.
"No way," Maya said.
Cooper made a beeline for her, slobbering all over her dress. She'd been dogsitting Cooper all summer while Darius was at baseball camp, which was basically the only reason she had an excuse to text him.
Darius spotted her. His face lit up like someone had flipped a switch.
"Maya!" He pushed through the crowd. "Cooper knows his favorite person."
She froze. This was it. The moment Luna had been manifesting for. But then her phone buzzed — her mom. Something about Grandma being in the hospital. The room started spinning, the bass suddenly too loud, the palms of her hands somehow even sweatier.
Maya grabbed her stuff and bolted. Like, literally running out of there, past the confused baseball team, past Luna's What are you DOING face, into the cool night air where she could actually breathe.
Her phone buzzed again. Darius: "Everything okay? Cooper seems worried lol"
She stopped running. Palm readers didn't know shit, but sometimes the universe gave you signs anyway.